Cassidy's Courtship - Cassidy's Courtship Part 8
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Cassidy's Courtship Part 8

Cole laughed and made a point of glancing at his watch. "It's June, and there's only dozens more home games between now and the playoffs. And you're working."

Brenna felt the heat flood her cheeks. "I ... thought you meant tonight."

"Ah. And it is true-that you're working. I remember you telling me." He leaned a little closer. "Another time, then?"

Brenna met his gaze, her breath caught painfully in the middle of her chest. Another second chance, when she didn't want it, didn't deserve it ... couldn't resist it. She nodded. "Another time."

"A woman of many talents," Cole said. "Baseball trivia buff. Entrepreneur. Storyteller. Adored aunt."

"Ex-entrepreneur," Brennacorrected .Nancy had made her sound like something special. What a lie-another deception on top of all the others. She needed some distance and time to think. That conclusion didn't keep her from asking, "Why aren't you at work?"

He grinned. "And direct, too."

"Well?" She wanted to give in to his grin. He looked great-what woman wouldn't be charmed by him? She couldn't allow herself to be.

"Who says I'm not working?"

"Unless you're suing the library, I can't imagine what you're doing in a children's room at ten o'clock in the morning."

His smile widened, and she sensed he would deliberately ignore her baiting him.

"It's not ten o'clock, Brenna. Would you and Teddy like to go to lunch?"

"Lunch?" she echoed.

"Yes," Teddy responded from her side, handing her the book and library card. "McDonald's. Okay?"

Brenna shook her head and stood up. "Not okay. I've got to go to work."

"All work and no play isn't good for you," Cole murmured, following her through the library.

"All play and no work doesn't pay the bills."

"Now there's a news flash." Cole had appreciation for her point of view, one he hadn't had until he struck out on his own. No more frills, if you could call a paralegal and an investigator frills. Things could be worse, he reminded himself. David Simmons had sent him several referrals, which Cole appreciated. When he had called to thank the senior partner from his old firm, the conversation had been surprisingly amiable.

Brenna acted as though she couldn't wait to get away from him, moving toward the door as if it was a lifeline. He followed, reluctant to let her go. Though he admitted he'd earned whatever she thought about him, it rankled that she didn't trust him. That didn't keep him from being attracted in a way he hadn't been ... ever.

"Brenna, it's just an invitation for lunch-"

"Thanks," she interrupted, "but I really do have to go to work." She pulled open the door and held it for Teddy. Cole caught up with her in time to keep it from slamming in his face.

"The least I can do, then, is drive you home."

Again she shook her head. "The bus will be along in a couple of minutes. I don't want to put you out of your way."

Her voice had that same calm cadence she used in court, but he sensed that beneath the surface, she was rattled. Why? he wondered. He caught up with her outside under the shade of a spreading oak. "It's not out of my way. Is that really the problem? Or something else?"

She glanced at him in that almost defiant way she had, challenging him, wary as a barn cat.

"I guess I was hoping for too much," he said. "God knows you don't have any reason to trust me, much less like me." When she didn't contradict him at all, he decided the time had come to retreat and regroup. His gaze left Brenna, and he dropped to his haunches in front of Teddy, offering him a hand. "Take good care of your aunt, okay, Teddy?"

In grown-up fashion, the child took Cole's hand. "Maybe we can go to McDonald's some other time?"

Cole chuckled. "We can." He stood up, and unable to resist, tucked a strand of Brenna's hair behind her ear. "Okay, Auntie Brennie?" She didn't answer, and he cocked his head to the side. "I'll see you soon, then."

She swallowed and nodded, holding her hand out to Teddy. Cole watched them walk away, wondering if she believed him. If she didn't, she'd know soon enough. Tonight. He didn't have a clue about how to breach her defenses. But, he promised himself, by the time she got off work from the bar tonight, he would have a plan.

You should have told him to butt off,Brenna told herself as she walked away from Cole.

She had never indulged in casual flings. Cole almost made her wish she was the type. Without a doubt, she knew she couldn't have an easy, fun, casual relationship with this man. And for her, there could be no other kind. The sooner she got that through her head-and his, if he asked her out again-the better. The next time she saw him, she'd tell him in no uncertain terms. She wasn't interested in going out with him. No matter how much she wondered what kissing him would be like.

While they were waiting at the bus stop, Teddy asked, "How come the words aren't the same when you read to me?"

Brenna frowned, aware she had missed something in Teddy's ongoing monologue. "Same as what, Teddy?"

"The same words as Daddy reads," he explained. "Don't you know the words, Auntie Brennie?"

Don't you know the words?Brenna stared at her nephew. If Teddy had figured it out, surely her lack of reading was equally obvious to the entire world. While she was still trying to understand how he had discovered her secret, Teddy jumped up.

"Here comes the bus. Can I put the money in? Please?"

The bus stopped, and Teddy preceded her up the steps, telling the driver hello, and fed the coins into the meter. He skipped to a seat and sat down.

"Look at the funny dog, Auntie," he said as she sat next to him. "What kind is it?"

Brenna followed his pointing finger through the window, marshaling her scattered thoughts with effort.

"An Afghan hound, I think."

"I like the way he walks. And his floppy ears."

Brenna sighed, thankful for the curiosity that had made Teddy forget his question. More frightening was Cole's intuition.

Appearances are deceiving.

The three words beat inside her brain, keeping rhythm with the bus. Brenna watched the passing city, remembering every turn, every choice, that had led her here. A choice-a stupid choice, made when she was six-that she wouldn't compete with her brother to earn her father's love. She hadn't understood the consequences of her actions then. And now ... now she was an illiterate woman, deceiving everyone.

"Isn't this where we get off the bus, Auntie Brennie?" Teddy asked, startling her out of her melancholy reverie.

She focused her gaze on the pizza parlor and service station that marked their stop. "It sure is, honey. That's very observant."

He beamed. "I'm getting to be a big boy, huh?"

Brenna wanted to scoop him into her arms and encourage him to continue being a little boy. There was plenty of time to be a big boy, plenty of time to face all the challenges of growing up. Instead, she smiled and tousled his hair.

"Yes," she said, giving him the reassurance he needed. "The biggest. The best."

"How do you suppose the bus driver knows where to go?"

"I imagine he looks at the street signs."

Teddy craned his neck and looked up at the sign on the corner. "What does this one say?"

Brenna glanced at the sign, then at the landmarks that identified the intersection to her. "Washington Street."

"I'm going to learn every sign," he said. "Then I'll be able to drive a bus, too."

She had little doubt he meant it. Teddy would make his choices, just as she had made hers. Hopefully the chain that would stretch link by link into Teddy's future would include better choices than she had made.

Brenna moved through the rest of the day like an automaton. As she cleaned Mrs. Johnston's house, doubts returned to plague her, doubts that had been nearly constant since Bates filed his lawsuit. She hadn't been able to make a success of a small, simple business. How did she expect to ever get out of her current pickle?

For more than two years, she had dared think everything would be fine. Her business hadn't required much paperwork, and anyway she'd hired a bookkeeper-secretary to manage those details. Until she had taken maternity leave, things had gone fine. Then, little things Brenna thought she could handle became overwhelming. The remembered helplessness poured through her now. How much longer could she keep deceiving everyone?

At once, dozens of things flitted through her mind. Her brother's casual way of talking aloud to himself when they went shopping-muttering that she paid close attention to so she could identify a baking powder can from a cocoa can. When they were kids, the way he had teased her about important phone numbers-numbers she learned to remember after hearing them once.

At the bar that evening, she waited on customers, responding to the banter out of habit and without conscious thought. Had anyone asked her a few days ago, she would have told them she'd gotten used to her unraveled life. She had been wrong. She wanted to be in control again, but she didn't have a clue where to even begin, not to mention she no longer trusted her own judgment.

"Has everything been okay, Brenna?" Theo asked toward the end of the evening. "You seem a little down tonight."

"Everything's fine." Except that it wasn't.

She made countless trips through the bar, doing her job, but unable to push away the feeling that a great void had opened beneath her feet. Two months ago she thought she could handle knowing it would be years before she'd be free of the debt from the lawsuit. Those years loomed before her now in an endless stretch where little more than survival would be possible. By then, she'd be closer to forty than thirty.

Somehow, she thought, I've got to figure out a way.

You know the way, came the ever-taunting voice from inside.

Leave me alone. I don't want to deal with you right now.

Closing time arrived, and Brenna went into the rest room to change out of her uniform. She emerged and paused in the doorway studying the street.If I could read, I'd have a driver's license and I wouldn't have to worry about catching a bus in the middle of the night .

Like last night, Colfax Avenue was nearly deserted. The homeless man was back tonight, asleep on the bus-stop bench. Two couples left another bar at the end of block and disappeared behind the building at the corner. The only car parked on the street was a black Jeep in front of Score. A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a huge white sombrero leaned against the vehicle, his arms folded across

his chest.

Brenna studied him from the shadows of the entry, knowing immediately that Cole Cassidy was, for whatever reasons, waiting for her. The hat, which looked like something he had picked up as a booby prize at a carnival, made her smile. She couldn't think of a single reason he'd be wearing a monstrous white sombrero edged in red and green braid. No reason-except, perhaps, to make her laugh.

Such a simple thing. She couldn't believe he was here. Not after the way she'd practically run away fromhim this morning. She couldn't deny the pull he had for her.He's the kind of man I'd choose if... If what?

She swallowed.

If you could read, prodded her little voice, gently this time. If you could read, even this would be possible.

Brenna ignored the quake of fear that thought filled her with and pushed open the door.

Cole looked up, levered himself away from vehicle, and moved toward her. The hat fell over one eye.

His sheepish grin dissolved what remained of her apprehension. Deliberately, she pushed her promise

that she'd send the man packing to the back of her mind. Tonight, she would enjoy what he offered and face the consequences later.

"Hi, Brenna." Two ordinary words that primed her awareness of him.

"Hi, yourself." She tipped her head, studying the hat. "I see you've added something to your wardrobe

since this morning."

"Good guys wear white hats." He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops at the front of his slacks and sauntered forward.

"They do, huh?" She remembered him telling her that he had wanted to be one of the good guys in a

white hat. Not only that, he looked great. Long tapered legs. Flat stomach. His eyes met hers. She felt

the jolt of awareness to her toes.

"They do," he confirmed, nodding. The ridiculous hat slipped further over his eye. He pushed it back into place. "I wanted to make sure you'd recognize me."

"I knew you were one of the good guys." She had spent a lot of time thinking about that. Too much.

"Why are you here?"

Even to herself her voice sounded husky.

"Thought you might need a lift home."

"A lift is what you'll get if you drive with that thing on."

He grinned. "Like it?"